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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28254195">Color Commentary</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anysia/pseuds/the-reylo-void'>the-reylo-void (Anysia)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Blades Crossed [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars Sequel Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Hockey, Commentary, Established Relationship, F/M, Figure Skater Ben, Hockey Player Rey, Humor, Mitaka is a Third Wheel In His Own Commentary Booth, Star Wars Modern AU</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:20:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,724</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28254195</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anysia/pseuds/the-reylo-void</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The scrappy Coruscant Ice Warriors host a guest commentator for tonight's game: the renowned figure skater Ben Solo, formerly Kylo Ren. Unfortunately for Ice Warriors broadcaster Dopheld Mitaka, someone probably should have explained to Ben that there are players other than Rey on the ice. (A short, sweet, and not-remotely-serious follow-up to "Blades Crossed".)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Blades Crossed [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2069697</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>167</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Color Commentary</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Happy 4-year anniversary of the day I sat down and wrote "Blades Crossed" in a single sitting and cried a lot. I'm still overwhelmed in the best way by how many of you have followed the adventures of Ben and Rey's figure skating shenanigans over the last few years. In honor of BC's anniversary, I've pulled this tongue-in-cheek 2017 follow-up out of the dungeon that is my ficlet collection, polished it up a bit, and given it the proper AO3 series connection to its predecessor that it maybe kind of deserves. Most of you have probably read it before so apologies for getting you excited about new stuff.</p><p>(That's coming soon.)</p><p>(For now, enjoy this brief foray into the "Blades Crossed" 'verse with Ben, Rey, and a very beleaguered Dopheld Mitaka.)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The thing about sports commentator boxes outside of professional sports is that they are relatively small affairs. Wires and equipment everywhere, with enough space for a handful of bodies for the play-by-play and color commentary.</p><p>This, Dopheld Mitaka has become accustomed to in his four years covering the Coruscant Ice Warriors. Small spaces, oversized earphones, sitting hunched over the mic, clip-on tie askew and stealing sips of cold off-brand coffee in between plays. Part of the job. Routine.</p><p>The hulking presence next to him is considerably less so.</p><p>Mitaka feels dark eyes watching him, and his fingers are unsteady as he begins the transmission. “Good evening, all you Ice Warriors fans out there watching our livestream!” It’s his broadcaster voice, easy and practiced with an accent that can best be described as <em>vaguely Midwestern and trying very hard not to be</em>. “We’ve got an exciting match-up tonight, with our Warriors facing the Hoth Hellhounds as they return home after a pair of nail-biter road wins.”</p><p>Dark eyes still boring into him, dark brows furrowed, burly arms crossed across a broad chest in something between expectation and annoyance.</p><p>“We, uh, definitely saw some great play from the team in Wednesday’s game, with the blue-line putting in some hard minutes against some of the league’s top-scoring forwards in their win against Naboo.”</p><p>There’s flop sweat between his shoulderblades, and he can swear the man beside him is trying to light him on fire through sheer will and disdain.</p><p>"But the real highlight was of course the return of the Warriors’ own Rey Kenobi after a four-game absence due to an undisclosed lower-body injury. Kenobi notched two goals and an assist in this week’s game and is on pace to regain her status as top league scorer before the month is out.”</p><p>Mitaka shoots a wary glance at the hulking man beside him, who gives him a firm nod and settles his broad form more easily into the folding chair that seems almost comically small beneath him.</p><p>“Speaking of Rey Kenobi, talk about a comeback story, eh? Longtime Warriors fans will remember the fiery forward’s seemingly career-ending concussion and her subsequent foray into the world of figure skating. Speaking of which…” Mitaka signals to the man beside him. "We have a surprise guest with us in the box to offer his take on tonight’s match-up: Kenobi’s former skating partner and national skating superstar, the one and only Kylo R—”</p><p>“It's Ben Solo, actually."</p><p>Mitaka stares at the man beside him before glancing at the laminated card in his hand. He winces. "Oh. Um. Sorry about — for our viewers at home who are unfamiliar with the world of figure skating... so probably all of you... our guest has competed in singles and pairs figure skating at both at the national and international level as Kylo Ren before returning to—"</p><p>Kylo — <em>Ben</em> ignores him and leans forward, shoulders squared, forearms settling against the table as he looks out at the ice. “You can’t see too much of the skaters themselves from up here, can you.”</p><p>"Well, uh, it’s important to be able to see the entire—”</p><p>Ben offers him a dismissive wave, squinting down at the ice. “False alarm. I can see Rey. You can stop talking now.”</p><p>“I… uh. Okay.”</p><p>Ben is distracted, dark eyes attentively following Rey's form as she skates lazy circles by the bench, stretching her stick over her shoulders. Mitaka abandons his introduction and takes the opportunity to rattle off the evening’s roster and stats, only to once again find himself confronted by a too-dark and too-close pair of eyes glaring down at him.</p><p>“You mentioned Rey <em>third</em>. Explain.”</p><p>“Oh. I mean, first there was the starting goaltender, then the captain, and then…”</p><p>“She’s not the captain? Why? Whose decision was that? Give me their name. Now.”</p><p>"Mr. Solo, I honestly have no—”</p><p>An irritated huff, the sound of a too-small chair creaking. </p><p>Mitaka leans as far away as the small space permits and swallows hard. “And I can see the starting line-up taking position — looks like we’re just about underway here. I have to say, Mr. Solo," Mitaka offers with what he hopes is an easy and not at all intimidated smile, "I’m surprised they didn’t ask you to perform the ceremonial puck drop.”</p><p>Those eyes again. "Why."</p><p>He feels like he’s choking and his tie isn’t even real. “I mean, it’s not every day the league has a figure of your caliber stopping by. It’s a momentous occasion. Again, for those of you at home who are unfamiliar with—"</p><p>"A figure of my caliber?" Kylo smiles then, and even in the dim lighting of the box, something bright and soft seems to enter his deep-dark eyes. “Hardly. Rey’s always here."</p><p>Mitaka's shoulders relax considerably, and he finds himself smiling a little in response. It’s a startlingly sweet comment from this hulking beast of a man, damn near saccharine, and he remembers all of those tabloids his boyfriend keeps strewn around the apartment, the ones that still carry puff pieces about Kylo Ren, his return to his birth name and embrace of his long-shunned family skating legacy, and his fairytale romance with his former skating partner (who is at this moment on the ice beneath him, executing a beautiful pass across the wing, tape to tape).</p><p>Mitaka can feel his heart fluttering at the sentimentality of it all (he’s such a damn romantic at heart, he can’t help himself, really, and they <em>do </em>look good together). He's halfway into a fond sigh as he wonders if they still hold hands when they skate as he realizes that play hasn't stopped, and oh god, they must have dead air and he <em>scrambles </em>for the mic—</p><p>—only to be roughly batted away by a <em>very </em>large hand, dark eyes not even glancing at him as they stare out to the ice.</p><p>“There’s some commotion at that side of the rink. It doesn’t matter because Rey is skating up the ice. The man to her left hit that other man into the glass. Neither of them are important. Look at that crossover skating, Mitaka. Effortless. She could spin the world into stars beneath her skates.”</p><p>“Mr. Solo, she <em>doesn’t have the puck, </em>she’s—”</p><p>“—passed it to someone else. Yes, I see. He’s skating. Dully. There’s another skater doing something. Artless, all of them. You enjoy this?”</p><p>Mitaka clutches at his earphones, leaning up against the table and angling desperately towards the mic. “…and I think that’s… <em>yes</em>, Dameron has the puck, skating up fast with…”</p><p>“Why aren’t we talking more about Rey’s skating? Look how fluid she is. Keeping her head up, straight ahead, into the turn... there’s my girl. Beautiful.”</p><p>“Mr. Solo, she’s just <em>skating to the bench</em>.”</p><p>“Beautifully. You can’t teach that, you know. That glide? Instinct. Pure instinct.” Ben exhales, something raw and desirous in his eyes as he looks down at the ice.</p><p>Mitaka is pressed up so far against the sound equipment he can feel EQ knobs digging into his spine.</p><p>Ben frowns at a flurry of motion on the ice, leaning back in his chair. “So now she just sits on the bench? Pointless. She should be skating. Isn't that why we're here?” He glances down. “I think number twelve got the puck into the net. You should probably mention that.”</p><p>Mitaka muffles his scream into his tie.</p>
<hr/><p>It’s a hardscrabble win, 3-2, but a win just the same.</p><p>(Rey doesn’t score but records two assists. Ben attributes this to her selfless nature and spends ten minutes in the third period discussing it at length. Mitaka keeps a running tally of sponsors to send apology letters to.)</p><p>They go rinkside after the game, because the gods are cruel and it’s impossible to strangle yourself with a clip-on.</p><p>He passes a handheld microphone to Ben, who seems oblivious to everything except the girl skating over to them, all sweaty hair and smiling eyes.</p><p>“Rey, great game out there tonight,” Mitaka says. “Can you talk about the assist you had on Finn’s goal? Beauty of a one-timer you—“</p><p>“He’s been like this all night,” Ben interrupts bluntly. “How do I make him stop?”</p><p>“Ben, he’s the <em>commentator.</em>” Rey sighs and offers Mitaka an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. He’s new to the whole ‘being an actual person’ thing.”</p><p>Ben rolls his eyes, but there’s a warmth to it, and to Rey’s answering smile.</p><p>Mitaka coughs awkwardly. It feels intimate between them, somehow, but he does have a job to do. “And the second assist: you’re down a man, penalty’s expiring, Dameron comes out of the box and you’re there to—”</p><p>“You didn’t score.” Ben leans forward against the boards, strokes back a curling tendril of Rey’s hair escaping from her braid. “You’re not disappointed, are you?”</p><p>“Of course not. It’s about the team, not me.”</p><p>“You’re more important than the team.”</p><p>“And this is why you suck at team sports, champ.”</p><p>Mitaka starts as Ben <em>laughs </em>then and pulls Rey into a tight hug over the boards, nosing at her temple. He clears his throat, tries again. “Your next game’s not until Wednesday. Are you looking forward to having some rest time, especially after your—”</p><p><em>“Ben,</em> get off, I’m sweaty and gross.”</p><p>“I don’t care.” A low chuckle, an answering grin. “I’ve had you like this before. On <em>and </em>off the ice.”</p><p>“Ben, I swear to God if you make a comment about ‘scoring’ tonight you're carrying my gear <em>and </em>doing laundry.”</p><p>And then they’re kissing, messy and passionate, all grinning laughter as Ben easily hops the boards with the grace of a practiced skater and dips her, skates and padding and all, before sweeping her up into his arms for another kiss.</p><p>It’s ridiculous and heartwarming all at once, and Mitaka weakly switches off his mic and tosses it behind him, unclipping his tie and searching his memory for Friday drink specials at the campus bar.</p><p>Ben raises an eyebrow at Mitaka's retreating form, shifting Rey's weight in his arms. "Very strange man," he observes. "Not very good at his job. Didn’t even mention the beauty of your chasses <em>once.</em>”</p><p>“Mm. Want to see them for yourself?”</p><p>Mischievous sparkling eyes, a slow grin in response.</p><p>(Later, Rey scores three times.)</p><p>(Ben has all three assists.)</p><p>(Mitaka considers a career change to dentistry.)</p>
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